


It's a Small World

by darkrogue1 (Lily_Haydee_Lohdisse)



Category: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: Gen, Peter Grant has a magical grandfather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 11:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15773064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_Haydee_Lohdisse/pseuds/darkrogue1
Summary: Since we learned about Uncle Bailiff who stayed as a handyman for Mama Thames and Maksim who wouldn't leave Beverley after being overcome with faith, I have had a weird feeling about this..."I vaguely recognised the name as being one of several dozen relations loosely defined as cousins - a relationship that could range from being the offspring of one of my uncles to the white guy from the Peace Corps who wandered into my grandad's compound in 1977 and never left."Ben Aaronovitch - Moon over Soho





	It's a Small World

We sat in the mundane library, Nightingale and I, perusing old reports on possible dragons, when he set down his folder and sighed.  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
He looked at me with his usual equanimity. "At times like this, I do miss working with a more numerous team." I nodded and waited, in case he was in a mood to elaborate, and this time he did explain. "I met a young american after the war, who was a dragon enthusiast. He would have been the perfect person to contact for this."  
  
"What happened to him?" The mortality in the magical community had dropped drastically after the war, but one never was safe for a more mundane demise or a car crash.  
  
"He enrolled in a volunteer program to further his personal research on the African continent and disappeared somewhere on the West Coast." The pointed look Nightingale gave me insisted he didn't believe it had anything to do with the people there in general or me in particular and I smiled at him.  
  
"What was his name?"  
  
"Edmond Cuthbert."  
  
I nodded absentmindedly and tried to go back to my reading, but something was prodding at the back of my mind and I couldn't concentrate. It felt like I was missing something important. I must have looked distracted enough for Nightingale to notice, because he tried to get my attention.  
  
"Peter? What is it?"  
  
It was probably nothing, which was what I said "...but do you happen to have a picture of him?"  
  
Nightingale considered for a moment. "I might just have that, let me check."  
  
A few minutes later he was back in the library with an old black and white group photograph and pointed to a IC1 white guy with thinning hair and a massive geeky beard.  
  
I stared. And stared some more. He had aged, but there was no mistaking that face for another.  
  
"Peter?" Nightingale asked, frowning, when I couldn't detach my eyes from the photograph.  
  
I tried to look at him but my eyes kept getting back to the picture : I really couldn't believe what I was looking at.  
  
"Peter?" I finally managed to look at Nightingale's slightly worried face, and he told me later that my eyes were wide and my face had gone pale when I said:  
  
"That's Cousin Ed."


End file.
